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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22575439">Saccharine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Control_Room/pseuds/Control_Room'>Control_Room</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gravity Falls</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Birthdays, Gen, Twins, blood mention</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 10:47:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22575439</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Control_Room/pseuds/Control_Room</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sweet.</p><p>A microprompt from tumblr.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Stanley Pines &amp; Elizabeth Cipress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Saccharine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Elizabeth disliked sweet things.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was something that Stanley realized pretty quickly after offering her some candy, though it was interesting to see that in a younger person. She liked salty things, spicy things. Food with a zing, a bang. Though they rarely came across good food in general, with a couple of spice containers, Elizabeth could make a meal out of a shoddy heap of scraps. Stan admired her for that, though they often argued over the sweetness (or rather, the lack of sweetness) in the food. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stan liked things sweet, which was why his love of Elizabeth was so… odd. He loved her with all his heart, and would protect her to no end. Often he would tease with bad jokes, but she would roll her eyes and laugh along. She was like… a little sister to him. A very wild, bloodthirsty little sister. He loved her greatly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So when her birthday rolled around, he wondered what to give her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had no clue, and confessed it to her a few days prior. She shrugged, and patted his arm, letting him know that where she was from, birthdays were no big issue for any family, even if they were twins - such as herself and Benjamin. Only quadruplets were important, and not their birthdays, but their birth nights. Stanley found it fascinating.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bet you would not learn that in a book, poindexter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A wave of loneliness washed over him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elizabeth was out ‘hunting’, also known as killing the members of the gangs that followed them. Yes, it was her birthday - and this was what she wanted to do for it. She offered Stanley to come along, but he declined. He was not much of a… well, murderer. Though she vehemently denied that it </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> murder - insisting that it was striking first, and she did have a point with that. He would rather them be dead than waking up with his head blown up, or Elizabeth dead or worse - captured. His skin crawled at the very thought, and he was glad she could take care of herself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She came ‘home’ to the El Diablo not too late; at around eight thirty or so. Stanley was staring up at the stars, and she closed her passenger door behind herself. The smell of blood trailed her, and Stan glanced over. He pointed at her sharp chin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ve got some blood on you,” he remarked, but it was in honesty a stupid thing to say, being that blood coated her from head to toe. “You’re not gettin’ any of it on the seat, are you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re saying that as though I haven’t bled all over your seats before,” Elizabeth retorted back with a smirk. Alarm came into Stanley’s expression. “What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not your blood, is it?” he questioned, worried. Her laugh easily dispelled it. “It’s not?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, it isn't.” she smiled, her sharp teeth glinting at him. “Killed a bunch of those nasty bastards.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“None followed?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nope. One guy tried. He made a good dessert.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Liz, stop that,” Stan wrinkled his nose. “You know I don’t like hearing that stuff.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What, scared you’ll be next?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“N-no, I just don’t like hearing that kind of thing,” Stan protested. “Come on, don’t laugh.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eh,” silence took over the small space of the car. A few minutes passed, both watching the stars trail across the sky above. The smell of blood slowly dissipated. It was calm. “I wouldn’t eat you, anyways.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Stanley got up with a jolt, staring at her. “‘Cause we’re close or?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, you’re too sweet,” Elizabeth replied. He was not sure if he should thank her or not. She glanced at him with a small smile. “Too much salt water taffy in you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” he leaned back, settling in for sleep. “Goodnight, Eliz’beth.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Night Stan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Months went by. The weeks after Elizabeth’s birthday were the best they had in practically a year, because the gangs were too afraid to go after them. Even though they slowly began to ebb back as of late, it was still much better than before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>June approached, and Stanley felt dread for his birthday. He missed his twin. He wondered if Elizabeth missed hers. Maybe that was why she went out murdering for her birthday, to lose herself in violence so she would not have to think about Benjamin. Stanley always thought about Ford, always worrying about his smart head. He was okay, right? Got into a school, so their ma told him. He knew it was not the school of his dreams, but he hoped that that would not matter, that he would be able to go into whatever he wanted. That was what he could hope for, knowing he ruined his brother’s future. But hey! Ford unintentionally ruined his too. And his was also an accident. So they were even. More or less.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, curly head,” Elizabeth’s hand snapped right in front of his eyes, the sharp ‘click click click’ gaining his attention with ease. “Focus on the road before you get us both killed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ok, ok,” he grumbled, but was grateful she pulled him out of spiralling. “Was just thinkin’ about Ford. He’s okay, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but we won’t be if you don’t pay attention,” she tartly replied. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>His birthday came closer and closer, and all he could feel was a pit of nervousness. Should he call their ma? She would probably cry again…. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stepped out into the cold air, stretching.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Morning birthday boy!” Elizabeth chirped, swinging into view from a branch. “I got you something!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t give me a dead guy’s head.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I got you a dead gu- oh you don’t want that?” she winked. “Nah, I’m just kidding. I baked you a cake.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wha-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was shoved into his hands, small and smothered in frosting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took a bite. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sweetness. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looked down at the ground. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is it good? Dunno how to bake.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s perfect,” he smiled, giving her a hug. She hugged back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A word came to his mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Saccharine. </span>
</p>
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